In Her Best Interests
by gothamgirl28
Summary: AU after 2.4. What happens when Mary tells Robert about Branson's feelings for Sybil?
1. Revelations and Confrontations

13 June 1918

Lady Mary Crawley was sitting up in bed as it approached midnight, staring at the night sky and the half-moon which shone through her window. Not for the first time of late was she sitting up thinking over a distressing situation. For the first time, the situation was not centered on Matthew Crawley but on her sister Lady Sybil Crawley and the family chauffeur Branson's desire to run away with her.

Mary had promised Sybil that she would not tell their father about Branson's pursuit of her as long as Sybil promised not to do anything stupid. Sybil had promised, and as she was still at Downton three months later, Mary had remained silent. But after what she saw today, she was reconsidering. Yes, Sybil had not run away with the chauffeur, she had kept her word, but Mary saw the two of them talking again today. This time Sybil was not only in the garage, but was casually sitting on a workbench talking with Branson as he worked on the town car. By the looks of it, Sybil had just returned from her shift at the hospital. She was still in her nurse's uniform, her head scarf removed and laying on her lap, and she was smiling at the chauffeur and laughing at something he said. Mary realized that it was only a matter of time before Sybil would accept Branson's overtures.

She didn't really think Sybil loved Branson. _How could she? He didn't really have anything to offer her. Yes, he is quite good-looking. I would even say boyishly handsome. Sybil's flattered by the attention he pays her. What young girl wouldn't like having an attractive young man pay attention to her? Sybil only experienced one season before the war broke out, and she had been a great success. If not for the war, she would be socializing with more suitable men at the moment. And Sybil's always been rebellious. This is just another manifestation of that rebelliousness. Darling Sybil. Sometimes she needs to be saved from herself._ With these thoughts in her mind, Mary decided she had to intervene and tell their father about what had been going on between her baby sister and the chauffeur. It was her duty as the eldest sister. She just needed to find the right time.

But how to go about it? When should she tell papa? Mary sat there contemplating the best way to tell their father. _It's important to tell papa alone, so over breakfast one morning would be the best time. Mama will be in bed having breakfast and Edith will have her rounds to do for the convalescent home. It should be a morning when Sybil is working at the hospital, and not here at the convalescent home. If she's here when Branson's fired, she might accept his offer then and there to spite me._ Mary decided to bide her time for the next few days, patiently waiting for the right moment.

The right moment came four days later. Mary arrived at the dining room to find her father and Edith, but no Sybil. She didn't think she was scheduled for a morning shift at the hospital.

"Where's Sybil?"

"She's at the hospital. They're expecting a transport of wounded officers and the head nurse asked her to come in to assist. Branson drove her there early this morning."

At hearing Branson's name, Mary thought of her task. _Today is the day._ She began eating her breakfast, taking small bites of her toast and sipping her tea. As Edith was halfway finished with her breakfast when Mary arrived in the dining room, it wasn't long before she finished eating and left the room to begin her rounds. Mary continued eating, trying not to let the little nagging voice in her head stop her.

_You made a promise, remember. You wouldn't say anything if she didn't do anything stupid._

_Well, it's only a matter of time before she does._

_Perhaps, but Sybil's upheld her end of the agreement._

_Barely. She goes to the garage and talks with him all the time._

_Yes she does. But who else does she have to talk to. More importantly, Sybil will never forgive you for going back on your word._

_Yes, she will. She'll throw a tantrum, yell, scream and make hollow threats, but in a day or two, all will be forgiven._

On that thought, Mary decided now was the time.

"Papa, I need to discuss something very important with you."

Looking up from his paper, Robert asked, "Yes, Mary?"

She looked at Carson standing in the corner, before shifting her eyes toward her father. "Can we discuss this alone?"

A concerned look swept across his face. "Yes, of course Mary. Carson, can you please give Lady Mary and me some time to talk?"

"Yes, my lord."

With that, he left the dining room, leaving Robert and Mary alone. He closed the paper and looked at his eldest, worry clear on his face.

"Now what do you need to discuss with me that you can't discuss in front of Carson?"

Mary took a deep breath. "Before I tell you, you must promise not to yell, papa."

Robert's eyes widened. "That is not reassuring."

"Do you promise?"

He nodded, his various imaginings of what Mary was about to tell him running through his head.

"It's about Sybil. Branson has told her that he loves her and wants to run away with her."

"Good God! What-"

"You promised not to yell."

"How am I supposed to react to hearing the chauffeur wants to run away with my youngest daughter?"

Mary nodded her head in understanding. "I know it's a shock, but you need to keep your voice down. Do you want the entire house to hear?" she asked with a lift of her eyebrow.

Robert quickly caught her meaning. The house was filled with servants, nurses and officers. He didn't want all of them to know about this.

Before he could respond, Mary continued. "I have a plan. Obviously, Branson will need to be fired. We'll inform Carson of what has been going on and he'll fire him today. However, when Carson is asked as to why Branson is leaving, he will say that Branson's father is ill and he has to return to Ireland right away. Since Sybil is at the hospital today, he'll be gone before she returns. There will be no dramatic scenes. We can save Sybil from any embarrassing situations and gossip."

"Hmphf."

Mary looked at her father. "What was that for?"

"Well, you're the one telling me about Branson's feelings for your sister. Sybil hasn't said anything to me."

"Papa, it's Sybil. I doubt she returns his affections. At the most, she's flattered by the attention. Knowing my younger sister, she hasn't said anything because she didn't want him to be fired."

Robert got up and paced back and forth for a few minutes, considering everything that Mary had told him. After a few minutes, he stopped and looked at his eldest.

"You seem to have everything planned out," he said with meaning.

"Do you mean that I came here with a plan to handle the situation?"

He nodded.

"I decided to tell you on Sunday night, but wanted to wait until I could get you alone and Sybil wasn't around."

"If Sybil doesn't return his affections, why should it matter if she is here or at the hospital?"

"You're obviously forgetting which daughter we're discussing. You know Sybil. She would cause a scene arguing against firing Branson. It's best that she's not here."

Robert considered Mary's words. "You're probably right. Are you sure Branson won't cause a scene?"

"I can't be sure, but no, I don't think he will."

"Very well. I'll ring for Carson. We'll pay Branson what he's owed, as well as train and boat fare. I want him on his way back to Ireland by the end of the day."

Robert pulled the cord, ringing for Carson to return to the dining room. He was there within minutes.

"Carson, Mary has brought a situation to my attention that needs to be dealt with immediately," Robert told the butler, barely concealing his anger.

"What is that, milord?"

"Branson has been making romantic overtures to Lady Sybil. I want him to be fired and off the property by the end of the day. I'll pay him what he is owed, as well as his train and boat fare. I want him to return to Ireland and far away from my daughter."

Carson's eyes widened at the revelation. "Yes, milord. If I had known about this, I would have fired him sooner."

Robert looked at Carson. "It's not your fault Carson. I should have known years ago. With all the political garbage Sybil was sprouting."

"Papa, let's return to the matter at hand. I'm sorry Carson."

"That is alright, milady."

"You're right, Mary," said Robert. He turned his attentions back to Carson. "I want to keep the situation quiet. If anyone asks you why Branson is leaving, tell them that his father is ill and he needs to return to Ireland at once." He paused. "And make sure that he knows that that is the reason he is to give as well. We'll discuss a replacement later."

"Very good, your lordship. I will do as you say."

With that, Carson bowed his head slightly and left the dining room.

Robert sighed. "I've lost my appetite. I'm going for a walk. A long one."

He quickly left the room, leaving Mary alone. Everything had gone as planned. Branson would be gone before Sybil returned from the hospital this evening. Her baby sister would not have to deal with the chauffeur's affections any longer. _Sybil will be relieved. I'm sure of it. _Yet Mary couldn't shake the feeling that she had just done a terrible wrong to her sister.

* * *

After he left the dining room, Charles Carson returned to his office downstairs. He was trying to process what he had just learned. _Branson has been making romantic overtures to Lady Sybil._

_I wonder how long Mr. Branson's been trying to seduce Lady Sybil. Probably started last July after the dinner with General Strutt. I should have fired him then._

He was fuming and needed to calm himself before he called Mr. Branson to his office. Mr. Carson was so preoccupied and upset, he did not hear the knocking on his door, nor did he hear the door open and Mrs. Hughes come in.

"Mr. Carson, whatever is the matter?"

"Nothing, Mrs. Hughes," he hurriedly said.

"I rather doubt that, You didn't hear me knocking on your door. And you look upset."

Mr. Carson debated whether to tell Mrs. Hughes about Mr. Branson's indiscretion. He decided he could trust her to keep it a secret.

"Please shut the door."

She did, then turned back to him. "This sounds serious."

It is, Mrs. Hughes. It is."

He paused trying to figure out how to tell her.

"Just tell me. I doubt it's as bad as you're making it seem."

"I only wish it were so."

Mrs. Hughes looked at Mr. Carson, waiting for him to continue.

"His Lordship just informed me that Mr. Branson has been making romantic overtures to Lady Sybil. He is to be fired at once and off the property by the end of the day."

With that, he was off on a full-blown rant, pacing back and forth.

"I should have fired him last July. The nerve of him to pursue Lady Sybil in that way. He probably doesn't even care for her. He's just trying to strike a blow against the aristocracy! Probably would've seduced her and left her ruined."

Mrs. Hughes just listened as Mr. Carson ranted. She was not shocked by what he told her about Mr. Branson. Surprised, yes, but not shocked. Recalling the garden party, she knew Mr. Branson had a crush, perhaps even more than a crush, on Lady Sybil four years ago. She thought he had heeded her warning. Now she knew better. However, while she understood Mr. Carson's objections to Mr. Branson's actions, Mrs. Hughes would not stand his last two comments.

"Mr. Carson," she said in a harsh and raised voice, "while I know your feelings on the subject of suitable men to marry his lordship's daughters, you go too far with your last comments. Mr. Branson, for all his faults, would not use Lady Sybil to attack the aristocracy. And he most certainly would not seduce her and leave her ruined. I know you don't agree with his politics, but outside of the incident last July, since he began working here he has been one of the most reliable workers."

"Need I remind you of the Count?"

"Need I remind you that Lady Sybil was the engineer of that disaster? If I recall properly, she lied to _both_ his lordship and Mr. Branson."

Mr. Carson looked annoyed. "Hmmm. We'll just have to agree to disagree on these matters."

He sat down. "I need to call Mr. Branson to my office. The sooner he is gone the better."

"Would it be fine with you if I stay while you fire him? I've always liked the lad, and it might be best for both of you if someone is here."

"I'm fine with that, Mrs. Hughes. It's probably best that you're here anyway. The excuse we are to give for Mr. Branson's sudden and unexpected departure is that his father is ill and he needs to return to Ireland at once."

Mrs. Hughes nodded her head. Though she didn't doubt Mr. Branson's affections for the youngest Crawley daughter, she knew as soon as she heard that he would have to leave and return to Ireland. _It's unfortunate really. If they weren't from such different worlds, they would actually make quite a nice match._

Mr. Carson left his office to ask one of the hall boys to go to the garage and tell Mr. Branson to come to his office. After he returned, they both waited in silence for Mr. Branson to arrive. Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," said Mr. Carson.

Tom opened the door, entered and shut the door. Turning to face Mr. Carson, he saw Mrs. Hughes was there as well. Looking between the two of them, he sensed something was wrong. Mr. Carson looked angry while Mrs. Hughes' face didn't reveal any emotion. Except her eyes, which Tom saw were filled with pity. And he knew what was about to happen. He inwardly braced himself for the axe that was about to fall. _No smartass comments, Tom. Take it on the chin._

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Carson."

Mr. Carson struggled to keep his temper in check. "Yes, Mr. Branson. It has been brought to his lordship's attention that you've been making unseemly advances to Lady Sybil."

Despite telling himself not to comment, Tom couldn't help himself. "I've not made unseemly advances, as you put it, Mr. Carson. I _proposed_ to her. There's nothing unseemly about that."

Mrs. Hughes had to force herself to keep a straight face and not to smile at his words. _He is right. A proposal is not the same thing as an unseemly advance. But he probably shouldn't have said that to Mr. Carson._

Mr. Carson's face turned red. "Have you no shame? Sneaking around trying to seduce Lady Sybil."

Tom forced himself to stay calm. "No, I have no shame. I never tried to seduce her. I asked her to marry me. I haven't even kissed her. Do I wish I could have openly courted Syb-," he paused on seeing the almost apoplectic look on Mr. Carson's face, rolled his eyes and continued, "Lady Sybil? Yes, but that was never going to be an option."

Mr. Carson was about to yell when Mrs. Hughes intervened, raising her voice a bit in the process. "This is getting us nowhere. You two both need to be quiet for the next few minutes."

She turned her head to look at Tom. Softening her voice, she said, "I think, Mr. Branson, you know what Mr. Carson called you in here for. While I am sad to see you go, you knew this was a possibility when you made the decision to pursue Lady Sybil. You will be paid what you are owed-"

"-as well as train and boat fare back to Ireland," Mr. Carson gruffly interrupted.

"Thank you, Mr. Carson," she huffed. "As well as your travel fare back to Ireland. You need to return to your cottage, pack your bags and be off the property by the end of the day. I'll bring what your owed to you."

Tom nodded at Mrs. Hughes. He was walking towards the door when Mr. Carson spoke.

"If anyone asks you why you're leaving, you are to tell them that your father is ill and you need to return to Ireland. Is that understood?"

Tom inwardly smiled at this. _As soon as Sybil hears that excuse, she'll know what happened. Since da's been dead for fourteen years and she knows it._ "Yes, Mr. Carson."

With that, Tom left his office and headed to his cottage to pack. As he briskly walked to his cottage, he felt the anger rising from within him. He wasn't angry at Mr. Carson or for himself. He was angry for Sybil and the betrayal at the hands of her sister. Tom had no doubt that the way his lordship found out about his pursuit of Sybil was from Lady Mary. _Because if it had been from one of the staff, Mr. Carson would have known before his lordship, not the other way around._

Before he knew it, Tom was back at his cottage. He marched in, leaving the door open and looked around. Though he had to pack up his entire life in a few short hours, Tom's only had one real thought. _How can I say goodbye to Sybil?_


	2. A Bittersweet Parting

I'm sorry for the delay in updating a mixture of writer's block and some personal issues caused it.

A special thank you goes out to **_Peachdreamsandperseus_** for reading the first chapter and helping to make sure I wrote Mary correctly. I forgot to thank her when I published the chapter and I want her to get her fair credit. Also, a huge thank you to **_Scarletcourt_**, who beta'd this chapter and gave me great feedback. I'm dedicating all of my stories to _**The Yankee Countess**_, who has become the unofficial Queen of S/T shippers. Consider my update part of **Rock the AU!**

* * *

17 June 1918

Nurse Sybil Crawley breathed in the beautiful spring air as she walked along the grounds of Downton Abbey after a half shift at the hospital that morning. It was early afternoon and Dr. Clarkson and Head Nurse Smyth had given her the rest of the day and all of tomorrow off. It was a reward for going in to assist with the new arrivals as well as working longer than her shifts usually required for the past week. Though part of Sybil was disappointed that she wouldn't be working for the next day and a half, there was another part of her that looked forward to the time off. Mostly because it gave her time to spend with Tom.

She wouldn't admit it to him, at least not yet, but Sybil was seriously considering his proposal. A little over a year and half since he proposed in that archway in York, she was contemplating whether or not she could give everything up to be with him. Her hesitance to accept had nothing to do with whether or not she loved him. Sybil knew she loved him, had loved him for some time before he proposed, and her love for him had only grown since York. No, she wasn't sure that she could give up her family and life here at Downton. When he proposed in York, she knew what he was going to say. Instead of telling him the truth, that she didn't know if she could leave everything she knew, Sybil did the one thing she has regretted since. She broke his heart. She saw it all over his face and read it in his eyes. It had not been what she intended, which was to protect her own heart, but that was the result. And for about two months after her return from training in early 1917, Tom (for in her head, he had ceased to be Branson years ago) had distanced himself from her. The drives to and from the hospital were pure agony for Sybil. There she was, alone with her best friend and the man she loved, and he wouldn't talk to her outside of a few pleasantries. There were times when Sybil had wanted to yell and scream at him for acting like that, but she realized quickly that was Tom's way of protecting his own heart so he wouldn't fall to pieces. And how could she fault him for that when in protecting herself she had hurt him.

When Tom started conversing with her again, Sybil felt so relieved. Working at the hospital could be emotionally draining and she needed someone to talk to. Without Tom to confide in, she had no one. If she had confided in her sisters or her parents, she knew they would misconstrue everything and insist that she stop nursing. So Sybil would pour her feelings into a journal, but that barely relieved her. What she needed was someone to talk to, who would understand what she was saying and feeling. And the only person who truly understood her was Tom. So when he did ask her how her day went, Sybil let loose. She couldn't stop talking, afraid that if she stopped, he wouldn't speak to her again. They were in the estate's garage for forty-five minutes before Sybil realized she'd been talking for an hour. She blushed with embarrassment, not believing that she'd talked for so long, and that Tom, whom she had hurt, had willingly listened with patience and concern. Sybil was humbled by this. _If I do accept him, everyone is going to say I married beneath me. But in truth, Tom is a better man than I deserve._

Thinking back to that day made Sybil want to see and speak to Tom right away. Since it was only about one, and no one was expecting her back until the evening, she decided to head straight for the garage. She quickened her pace, reaching the garage in minutes. However, when Sybil went inside, Tom wasn't there. Both the town car and the Renault were in the garage, so she knew that he was on the grounds and not driving someone about. _Perhaps he's eating lunch. I know he rarely eats with the indoors staff. I'll walk to his cottage and see if he's in._

Sybil hastened out of the garage and followed the trail that lead to the cottages for the outdoors staff. At the beginning of the year, she would never have been bold enough to visit Tom anywhere but in the garage. However, that changed after she told Mary about them. Their conversation that March night turned into a fight. Sybil could still remember the words Tom said and how they had hurt her.

"_What work? Bringing hot drinks to a lot of randy officers!"_

He had said something else after that remark, but Sybil didn't hear it. All she heard was "What work." She was so angry and disappointed in him and at his words. Sybil couldn't help lashing out at him, stinging him with one of her own barbs.

"_Is that what you really think of my nursing? I never thought I would say it, but you're just like my father. How dare you insult the work I'm doing! At least I'm actually doing something. I wanted to help, to do something and I went and did it. What have you done? You keep talking about freedom for Ireland and women's rights, but what have you actually done for either cause? Maybe it's time you put up or shut up!"_

Sybil only looked at Tom briefly before sweeping out of the garage. Yet that moment was enough to know her words had hit their mark. She didn't feel better after yelling at him. In fact she felt guilty, knowing that the only reason he wasn't in Ireland was her.

Tom surprised her the next night when he apologized. To be accurate, it was what he said that had surprised her and touched her heart.

_He looked so ashamed when she finally gave in and allowed him to speak his piece._

"_I'm sorry, Syb-milady. I didn't mean what I said to you yesterday. You're a wonderful nurse. I've seen you as you tend to the men at the hospital and here at Downton. You're a natural. It's not an excuse, but ever since...ever since York, I've..I-," Tom began to stumble over his words, a rare occurrence in the nearly five years Sybil had known him._

_He composed himself and continued. "I've been angry and frustrated since York. I've been angry and frustrated about a lot of things over the two years. Then when we were talking yesterday, all I heard from you were reasons why we shouldn't be together. It seemed like you don't see any reason in favor of accepting me, in loving me as I love you and…it hurt. It's not an excuse for what I said. I shouldn't have insulted you or your work. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you."_

_Sybil looked down, blushing at hearing him actually say he loved her. It was the first time he ever said the words to her, though she had known for a long time how he felt about her. Then her words from that November day rushing back to her, the 'terribly flattered' and the laughter at his comment. A straight out no would have been kinder. Sybil then thought about their argument last night. She looked up at him._

"_Bran-," Sybil stopped herself. No, he deserved to be called by his first name. "Tom, I accept your apology, but only if you accept mine. As much right as I had to be mad at you last night, I shouldn't have said what I did about you not doing anything. I know that you're only still here because of me."_

Sybil learned something about Tom that night. The man that she told Mary was frightfully full of himself, really wasn't. At least not when it came to her. It was an act he used to help him keep hope alive. That it was possible for a working class Dublin boy to win the heart of an aristocratic lady. Hoping that she saw that he was more than a chauffeur. _If only he knew…_

After that, she began to visit him occasionally at his cottage. Not all the time, usually it was on his half day off, but it allowed them some privacy from Mary's watchful gaze. Sybil had noticed that Mary seemed to follow or keep tabs on her when she was working at Downton. It was why Sybil had asked Dr. Clarkson to schedule her at the hospital more often.

As she turned the corner, Sybil saw Tom's two-story brick cottage and its sky blue door. She smiled, remembering when he first painted the door that color. It was shortly after he started working at Downton, maybe a few days after she wore her harem pants for the first time. Sybil remembered thinking that the color of the door reminded her of her new frock, but thought it was a coincidence. Now she knew better.

She hurried down the path, opened the rickety gate and walked up to the door. Sybil felt the excitement at seeing Tom building and she rapped quickly on the door. When she didn't hear anyone for a few minutes, she knocked again, harder than she did before. Again, Sybil didn't hear Tom. An uneasy feeling crept over her. _He's probably eating lunch in the Servant's Hall._ She knocked one more time and finally heard something.

The door swung open and Tom stood in the doorway. Sybil felt relief for a moment. Then she noticed Tom was not in his livery, but instead was wearing his black trousers and waistcoat. His black tie was knotted loosely and his shirt collar was open. Knowing that it wasn't his half day off, and that was the only time he wore one of his own suits, Sybil's unease returned.

Upon seeing Sybil outside his cottage, a look of relief swept over Tom's face. "Thank God! I didn't know how I was going to get a message to you."

"What's happened? It's not your half day off and you're wearing one of your suits. And what do you mean you didn't know how to get a message to me?"

He rubbed his face. _How am I going to tell her that her sister betrayed her confidence?_

"You better come in," he said.

She took a deep breath and entered his cottage. The sight that welcomed her did nothing to ease her fears. Tom's suitcase was on the landing by the stairs and the shelves that had held his books were bare. Instead, they were piled haphazardly on his table.

He quietly shut the door and walked to his table, pulling a chair out for her. Tom saw her taking in the sight of the cottage and putting everything together.

Sybil turned to look at Tom. "You're leaving?"

"Yes, I was-"

"But you said you would stay here until I made my decision."

"That was my plan until I was fired this morning."

"Fired? Why?"

"For making unseemly advances towards the youngest daughter of the house."

Sybil sank down onto the chair Tom had pulled out.

"How did they find out?"

"Do you really need me to tell you?"

"Mary wouldn't."

"Well, she's the only one that knew about my feelings for you, and when Mr. Carson fired me, he told me that it was brought to your father's attention. If it was one of the other servants-"

"-they would have gone straight to Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes, not my father."

Sybil looked down at her hands, emotion after emotion roiling through her. She felt so many at once it almost made her head spin. Sadness, anger, sorrow, shock, and the most overwhelming one, outrage. The outrage at her eldest sister's betrayal was overpowering her, shattering her core belief that her sisters, while rarely nice to each other, would never hurt or betray her. _I kept my word. I promised her I wouldn't do anything stupid and I haven't. I haven't eloped even though I love Tom. Why did she do this?_

She looked up at Tom, tears pooling in her eyes. Mary had betrayed her and now he was being forced to leave. Sybil didn't want him to leave. Not yet. Not until she made her decision. _Maybe I should go with him now?_

Tom read her thoughts and emotions, and answered her unasked question.

"I don't want you to come with me."

Sybil was confused by his words. After all this time of making declarations of love, telling her she was in love with him, wanting to run away with her, Tom was about to get what he said he wanted, but didn't want her now.

"I don't understand. After all this time, you don't want me. Were you-"

Thankfully, Tom interrupted her before she could finish her question. "I do want you. More than you know. I want to marry you and have children with you. And a part of me wants you to come with me. God, I really want you to. But…"

"But what?" Sybil softly asked.

"I don't want to doubt why you married me. And if you leave with me now, I'll doubt it. I'd always question whether you left because you wanted to or because you felt betrayed by your sister. I believe in those wedding vows. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." Tom paused to gather the strength to say the next words. "And if you changed your mind and left me…it would hurt more than York," he finished lowly, barely above a whisper.

Sybil closed her eyes, fighting back tears. _He's right. I wish he wasn't, but Tom's right. As much as I love him, I'm still not sure if I can give everything up. How does he know me better than I know myself? And the idea that I could hurt him more than I have already, I can't do that. I can't leave until I'm sure._

"Okay. Tom…," she paused, unsure of whether she should tell him how she felt about him. Before she could continue, there was a knock on the cottage door. Sybil's eyes widened.

Tom, thankfully, was able to keep calm.

"Who is it?"

"Mr. Branson, it's Mrs. Hughes. I've brought your pay and travel fare. Can I come in?"

"Give me a moment. I'm not entirely decent."

As he was speaking, Tom pointed to the stairs. Sybil took her cue and quietly went upstairs, entering the nearest bedroom and sitting down on the bed.

As soon as he heard the door shut upstairs, Tom opened the door to allow Mrs. Hughes in.

"I'm sorry about that, Mrs. Hughes."

"It's all right, Mr. Branson," she said as she stepped through the door. She looked around the cottage, seeing the suitcase by the stairs and the bookshelves devoid of books. She turned to face Tom and handed him an envelope.

"In there is the money that is owed you, as well as money for train fare and a trip on a ferry, and a letter of reference."

Tom raised his eyebrow at the last part of Mrs. Hughes's sentence. "How on earth did you get Mr. Carson to write me a letter of reference? He looked like he wanted to string me up earlier."

Mrs. Hughes smiled. "Mr. Carson didn't write you the reference. I did."

Tom was both shocked and touched by the revelation. He couldn't believe she had taken the time to write him a reference, especially under the circumstances of his dismissal.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. I don't know what to say."

"I believe that's a first, Mr. Branson."

He chuckled, thinking of the woman hiding upstairs. "Perhaps when it comes to you. There's a certain nurse who always seems to leave me unsure of what to say."

"Ah yes, Lady Sybil. Did you really propose to her?"

"Yes, when I took her to York for her training."

"That was nearly two years ago," replied Mrs. Hughes, not even trying to hide her shock. She had thought the proposal was more recent. "I can assume she said no."

"She didn't say yes or no. The proposal remains unanswered. It's why I stayed. If she had said no, I would have returned to Ireland then." He paused for a moment. "Well, that's not entirely true. She told me I wouldn't have to leave because she wouldn't tell her family what I said."

That revelation surprised Mrs. Hughes. Then she remembered which Crawley daughter they were discussing. _I can believe that Lady Sybil would say that._

"Well, Mr. Branson. Do you need any help packing the rest of your belongings?"

"No, I can manage that, but thank you for asking. I have some books from Lord Grantham's library here. I'll leave them on the table before I leave. Can you come back here later and return them? I think it's best if I don't take any chance in running into his lordship."

She nodded. "Very well. Goodbye, Mr. Branson, and good luck. I hope the reference helps you find another position."

Tom smiled. "Thank you. I'm not sure how helpful this will be. I made a promise to make something of myself. This might be the time to move forward with my plans to leave service. But thank you nonetheless. Truly, I am grateful."

Mrs. Hughes smiled. "If you need anything before you leave, please don't hesitate to ask."

"There is one thing, Mrs. Hughes."

"Yes?"

Tom looked down at the ground for a moment, hoping that she wouldn't be upset by what he was about to ask her.

"Could you please watch over Lady Sybil? The only other person who knew about my feelings for her was Lady Mary, and if I'm correct that she told Lord Grantham and Mr. Carson, Sybil-Lady Sybil, will need someone she can trust to turn to. Could you let her know that you'll be there for her?"

Mrs. Hughes took in the young man before her. _He's just lost his job and his main concern is Lady Sybil and not himself. _A part of her thought that Mr. Branson was foolhardy, but an even greater part of her couldn't help but to admire his devotion to the young woman.

"I will, Mr. Branson. Best of luck to you in all your future endeavors."

She gave him a small nod and briskly left the cottage. Tom shut the door and locked it. He then went up the stairs and opened the door to the room Sybil had entered earlier.

"I'm sorry about that."

Sybil looked up at him and smiled. "There's no need to apologize." She paused as she stood up. "And thank you for asking Mrs. Hughes to look after me. I can take care of myself, but it's nice to know that there still will be someone here I can talk to." _Because you won't be here._

"You heard everything?"

"Yes. I even heard you say that I make you not know what to say. I find that hard to believe."

"Well, I've seemed to make a mess of things whenever I speak to you about us."

Sybil looked him in the eye. "You're not the one that's made a mess of things. I'm certain that was my doing."

Tom shook his head. "No. I often speak without really thinking. It's always gotten me into trouble."

"Perhaps," Sybil whispered, "but I've never really gave you an answer and I haven't been a saint."

"We can argue about this all night, but I need to be off the grounds in a few hours. Maybe we both have made some mistakes when it comes to us."

She smiled and nodded. "Equally wrong. I like that." She paused to gather herself together. "I know you told Mrs. Hughes you didn't need any help packing, but can I help you with anything?"

He smiled. "I need to sort through the books on the table. I mixed your father's books in with mine. Once they're sorted, I need to pack mine in my suitcase."

"Then I'll help you with that."

Sybil and Tom left the bedroom and quickly returned downstairs. It didn't take them long to sort through the books and pack Tom's into his suitcase. He decided to do a quick sweep of his bedroom.

"It won't take me long. Then I'll be on my way."

Trying to delay the inevitable, Sybil asked the first question that came to her head. "Can we have some tea before you go? Together?"

Tom knew he should probably leave as soon as possible, but he didn't know when or if he would see Sybil again. He couldn't pass up this chance to spend a little more time with her. "That would be good."

Sybil beamed. "Just show me where everything is. I'll make the tea while you check to see if you forgot anything."

He showed her where he kept all the tea things and quickly went back upstairs. Once he got to his room, Tom took his time checking if he left anything. He looked under the bed, in his nightstand drawer, by his wash basin and anywhere else he could think of. The last place to check was his wardrobe. The only item he saw inside was his black suit jacket. Tom sighed and removed the jacket from the clothes hanger. He was about to close the press when he remembered to check the drawer. Opening it, Tom saw the blanket his mother made and sent him for his first Christmas at Downton. He removed it, closed the drawer and the clothes press, and left the room.

Returning downstairs, Tom saw that Sybil was just about finished making their tea. He put the blanket on his suitcase, his jacket on the back of a chair and went into the kitchen area.

"How do you take your tea?" she asked.

"Black. Sugar was too dear to be used in tea when I was growing up. How do you take yours?"

"I've always taken my tea with milk. I used to take it with sugar, but with rationing, I've become accustomed to my tea without it. Though I drink coffee more than I drink tea. It helps to get through night shifts."

Sybil brought the tea to the table and the pair sat down to drink and talk. They talked for several minutes about everything – the war, what was going on in Ireland, his family, her work. They discussed everything but the fact that he was leaving.

Nodding her head towards his suitcase, Sybil said, "I see you did forget something."

"I did. It's the blanket my mother made for me as a gift my first Christmas here. She wanted to make sure that I kept warm."

"That was sweet of her. Will it fit into your suitcase?"

That's when the idea came to him. "It'll fit, but I'm not bringing it with me. I'm giving it to you."

"Tom-"

"Please don't argue with me about this. It's a gift. Whether you eventually say yes or no, you are and will always be my best friend and the only woman to completely capture my heart. I don't have much to give you in this moment except my friendship, my love, and that blanket. If you say no, you'll always have something to remember me by, something which I hope will bring you comfort and warmth in the years to come. And if you say yes, then this blanket will keep us warm in the years to come."

Sybil looked down, amazed that the man in front of her still had hope that she would marry him, even after everything. Looking up at Tom, she asked, "How are you able to still have hope after all of this?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. There have been moments where I've thought that it would be best to leave. That you would never accept me and I should just go. Those moments haven't lasted long. I always think of you and how just the possibility of a yes is worth all the waiting. Even if I had to wait fifty years for one day with you, it would be worth it."

Sybil fought back tears. She needed to tell him. Whether she could ever leave her family was still debatable, but she knew here and now that there would only be one man she would ever love and marry.

"Tom, I need to say something-"

"Sybil, I'm not sure i-"

"No, now it's my turn to speak without you interrupting." She took a deep breath and looked straight into his eyes. "Tom Branson, I love you. I have loved you since I was seventeen years old and didn't realize I was in love with you. I loved you when you proposed to me in York and my love for you has only increased since then. You are so much more than the man I love. You're my soul mate. I wish I could give you an answer to your proposal right now, but I can't. Though I love you so very much, I'm not sure that I can give my family up. And before I can make this decision, I need to finish what I started with my nursing. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for. You told me you love me. I might have said that I knew that, but I can admit that was me being full of myself. Now, I know and I'm so grateful for that knowledge. A little fuel for my hope."

"And the rest?"

"Sybil, I know asking you to give up everything for me is asking a lot. I was foolish to think that you could answer me straight away. I know and trust you to make the right decision for you. I just want me to be that decision. I also agree that you need to finish what you started, and I've already told you I'm willing to wait."

He got up and walked over to the little table by the bookshelves. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, Tom quickly wrote something down. When he finished, he gave the paper to Sybil.

"That's the address for my mother's flat in Dublin. It's where I'll be living for the foreseeable future. Please write to me. I know it'll be impossible for me to send a letter directly to you, but I know one of us will think of something. I'm going to miss talking to you, so please write. I want to know how you are doing and how you're nursing is going."

She nodded, struggling to hold back the tears. There was only one thing Sybil wanted from Tom right now and she needed to ask for it soon. He had put on his jacket, grabbed his suitcase and placed the blanket on the chair she'd been sitting in. It was time for him to leave.

"Tom, I want, well I want…"

"What Sybil?" he asked softly.

She looked up at him and leaned in, pressing her lips gently to his. It took a moment for Tom to react, surprised at Sybil's action. He dropped his suitcase to the floor and pulled her closer, cupping her cheek with his hand. Sybil soon placed her hands on Tom's arms, bringing herself even closer to Tom. Both of them poured all of their love for the other into the kiss. They remained that way for several minutes, kissing and holding each other. Eventually, Tom broke the kiss, placing his forehead against her and taking a shuddering breath.

"I love you Sybil Crawley. Always and forever."

He kissed her on the forehead, grabbed his suitcase and left the cottage. Sybil picked up the blanket Tom left on the chair, sat down and wrapped the blanket around her. She finally allowed the tears to flow, feeling her heart shattering into pieces.


End file.
